


Flower Tattoo

by Brdazi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Florist Dean, M/M, Tattoo Artist Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brdazi/pseuds/Brdazi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas owns a tattoo parlor, while Dean has inherited a flower shop. The buildings are next door to each other, and Cas used to enjoy just watching all the flowers come and go. One day they have an awkward conversation because Cas wants to be a good person, and then they start to actually talk to each other.</p><p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on writing more of this once I've finished my fic, It's Just a Name. I think I'll only be writing two or three more chapters of that and then move on to this. I haven't planned anything for this at all, so lets see where it goes! Enjoy :)

The street was empty and dark, it was almost three in the morning, so that was quite normal. The last customer of the day freaked out but then refused to leave until everything was finished. He had wanted an octopus tattoo and was new to ink, so he came in several times to talk before he finally decided to do it. Of course the second the needle was going, the guy couldn’t stop fidgeting. It wasn’t until almost two a.m. that the tat was finally finished and the guy was out the door.

It took Cas another hour to clean everything up and close up shop properly, he knew he’d get shit from Charlie if he didn’t. She was opening the next day, or technically later today, she was probably already asleep and would be for the next twelve hours. Then she’d literally roll out of bed and walk to the shop, half-zombie-style.

Half of the lights lining the sidewalk didn’t even work, Cas sighed and headed towards his apartment. It was only a few blocks away, and he knew nobody would mess with him. His tattoos, piercings, and dyed black hair helped with that. He used to wear makeup as well, mostly just eyeliner, but he could never be bothered to take it off, and he knew that was bad for his skin. He forced his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, but they didn’t quite fit, maybe they were skinny jeans he had stolen from Charlie. He could never understand why people never made girl clothing with pockets. His doc martens scuffed along the massively cracked sidewalk. The town had repaved it only a few years ago, but it didn’t last long. Cas had the feeling that they didn’t even try to repair it, which is why it had gone to shit so fast.

Cas absentmindedly licked at his lip ring as he passed the other shops that were along the road. He knew what was there by heart now. Ink Wings, his tattoo parlor, was on the corner, then there was a flower shop, a high class shoe place, some café that sells really nice muffins, and then Cas starts to lose track. That’s when he crosses the road and goes through a few backlots and then scales the fire escape of his apartment complex. It’s a pretty nice place, so he always gets yelled at for doing it, but his landlord is a nice old lady who took a liking to him for some reason. Lately all she does is fake yell at him the next day when he leaves, and she always hands him some of whatever baked good she made that morning.

He was about to cross the road, without even looking, when he heard a crash behind him. Cas turned around slowly, because there’s always the large possibility that it’s just a drunk, but something felt off. The lights were on in the flower shop, but he was sure they were off when he just passed by. Cas had an internal battle for a few seconds before his “nice guy” side won out. He trudged back the way he came and peered into the flower shop. It didn’t look like there was anybody in there, but he knew that there was a whole back room and then a green room, and in the back there were more plants and things outside. He could see some of it from his parlor when he went on breaks or when he was in the office he barely used. Cas preferred to be on the floor, he enjoyed talking to people and doing tattoos, but he knew that taxes and other things like that were necessary.

He had chosen the room because he enjoyed looking at the plants that were growing in the next lot over. He wasn’t sure who owned it because he never really went in there, but there was one woman he used to see a lot, but he didn’t see anymore. Two men who seemed to fight sometimes, probably brothers, and a blonde who was always breaking them up. At least, those were the people that Cas could remember.

He tentatively pushed at the door and found that it was unlocked. “Hello?” Cas called out tentatively. He heard more crashes.

“Shit!” someone called out. Cas looked around at the flowers that were all around the room, he couldn’t tell if someone was in here, or in the back room. He felt uncomfortable and wanted to kick himself for thinking that coming back here was a good idea.

A door on the far wall behind the counter opened and a man almost literally fell through it. He grabbed on to the counter for balance and then glanced up at Cas. He did what everybody else does, look him up and down, and then become guarded and skeptical. He became defensive, Cas could see it in his posture, the way he narrowed his eyes and stood up straighter. Cas was proud of his tattoos and his piercings, they became a part of who he is, and a lot of the time he gets judgmental attitude for it. Most of the time he can just brush it off, but maybe walking into a place of business at three a.m. was not a good idea.

“Hi,” Cas started and tried to smile. He was pretty sure the man was one of the brothers he sees through the window sometimes. He’s the more attractive one, with the short hair and bowlegs. Cas noticed his green eyes and found himself making a mental note of that for later. For what, he didn’t know. “Sorry, I heard a crash and I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

“Everything’s fine.” The man said.

“Right,” Cas said. “Well, I’ll just go then, sorry.”

“You want to check that everything’s okay,” the man blurted, “and then you’re just going to take my word for it when I say it is?”

“Yes,” Cas said. He wrapped his arms around himself as if he were cold, but he knew it was just a defense mechanism he had to learn to turn off.

“Well that’s useful,” the man said, rolling his eyes.

“You work here,” Cas said, and the man froze and stared at him. “Yeah, I work at the tattoo parlor next door.” The man raised his eyebrows and gave Cas another once-over. Cas knew what he was thinking, something along the lines of how obvious he was being. “Right yeah, so I’ve seen you around here. And your brother, I think he’s your brother. Anyway, it’s not my business, see you around, man.” Cas gave a slightly aborted wave and turned to walk out. He heard a few more crashes and curse words, but he didn’t turn around. Then he heard the distinct sound of something shattering and more curses, but more like pained curses.

Cas waited a few moments before he decided he must be masochistic. He turned back around and cautiously walked through the maze of plants to the counter at the back wall. “Hi again, sorry but ah, are you alright?”

The man was leaning against the counter, which before only had dirt and some flower remnants on it, but now there was blood and the shattered remains of some kind of large pot. It probably held the green and pinkish bits of the plant that now covered the counter and the floor. The man looked like he was holding his breath.

“Oh, my god, are you okay?” Cas hurried around the counter and looked around for a rag or a broom or something he could either use to help the man or clean up the broken pot. “Do you have a first aid kit?” The man nodded towards the bottom left side of the counter, Cas pulled open a drawer to find a few medical supplies buried beneath some flower meaning pamphlets. He pulled out some gauze and a few packages he guessed he might need just because of their general size and feel. Cas turned around and guided the man away from the plant pot wreckage and then down to the floor. He only realized after he found himself kneeling in front of the man, holding disinfectant wipes and gauze, that walking into a flower shop at three a.m. is weird enough, but then offering, or really forcing, first aid help was just plain strange. He had already gone this far, it was too late to back out.

The man was staring at him curiously. “Dean.”

“What?” Cas asked as he pulled the man’s hand into his lap so that he could see the damage.

“The name’s Dean,” the man said. “What’s yours?”

“Oh,” Cas said and glanced up, he noticed the shade of green that the man’s eyes were was very pretty. He mentally kicked himself. “Castiel, but call me Cas, please.”

“Castiel,” Dean said, as if he were testing the name out. “That’s a mouthful.”

“There’s a reason I use a nickname,” Cas said as he wiped all the dirt and grime off of Dean’s hand. Cas was impressed, Dean didn’t even wince at the pain.

“Makes sense,” Dean said. “So, Cas, what are you doing here so early in the morning?”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Cas said distractedly as he started to apply the gauze, “it’s really late at night.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that, but it still doesn’t answer my question.”

“I guess I’m just a Good Samaritan,” Cas said. “I was just concerned when I heard a crash. It’s just not a good sound to hear so late.”

“It’s not your place to intervene.”

“I know.”

“Thank you.”

Cas glanced up and stared at Dean for a few moments, and he stared right back. Cas shook his head slightly and then taped down the gauze as gently as he could.

“You’re good at this,” Dean said, glancing down at his hand.

“I work at a tattoo parlor,” Cas scoffed. “You get used to dealing with open wounds.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “While this isn’t the weirdest experience I’ve ever had, it’s definitely top ten.”

Cas flinched. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You?”

“Does this make my list of top ten experiences?” Cas asked for clarification. Dean nodded and Cas smirked. “Sorry man, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m covered in everything that would label me as a ‘delinquent,’ and that always leads me into weird and uncomfortable situations. Anyway, you’re not trying to rob your own store or anything?”

Dean smirked. “I could lie about that, but no, I’m not.”

“And you’re not being held here against your will or anything?”

“Nope.”

“Holding anyone else here against their will?”

“Nah, not today. Tomorrow, definitely, but they’re called employees.”

Dean grinned and Cas couldn’t help but smile back. “Right then,” Cas said, “I guess my work here is done. Goodnight Dean.”

“Night, Cas,” Dean called out as Cas left the shop, “And do me a favor, man, don’t come barging in here unless we’re fucking open, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Cas called back. He didn’t have any intention of going back to the flower shop at all. He was already a creep that watched Dean and his family from afar as they worked, and he had no reason to actually enter a flower shop.

Like usual, Cas climbed into his apartment, practically breaking into it and waited for the banging from next door. The guy hated that Cas always came in late, and never through the front door. The guy hated it worse when Cas brought night guests over, which made Cas want to do it more, but he wasn’t a “one night stand” kind of guy, so he had decided to wait for an actual relationship to piss off his neighbor more. As he clamored over the desk by the window he heard the guy banging on the wall, but he ignored what he was yelling. Cas didn’t think he was that loud, the guy was just an asshole.

One of the lights was on in the kitchen, Cas always left it on so that he could see where he was going when he got home without having to blind himself with the lights in the main room. It led directly into the kitchen, which was quite small, but Cas didn’t need much. He pulled out some cereal and a bowl. He poured it out and proceeded to eat it plain. Cas knew he could just eat it out of the container, but something about that bothered him, so he never did.

It wasn’t until Cas made his way to his bedroom that he realized his keys weren’t in his pocket. They were only to his apartment and the front door of the tattoo parlor, and he had lost them before, but Charlie would kill him, because she would insist on changing the locks again, and that was expensive. The only reason she hadn’t taken the keys away from him completely was because she was only the assistant manager while he actually owned the place, and there were the times when he had to either open or close.

Cas cursed himself and hoped that they fell out somewhere between the window and the kitchen, but decided he’d look in the morning.

When Cas got up, he had completely forgotten about his missing keys. He went about his normal daily routine when he wasn’t working, which was mostly reading and pacing around his apartment. About two hours before he had to go to work, Cas remembered the keys and frantically searched everywhere he could think of, but they were nowhere to be found. He groaned and made his way through his apartment to the barely-used front door. When he got to the lobby of the complex, his neighbor was complaining to their landlord about him.

“—always coming and going in odd hours of the day! He’s a nuisance! You should— you!” he turned to Cas. “You are a complete…” Cas started to ignore him.

“Afternoon, milady,” Cas nodded to his landlord.

“Hello, Castiel,” she said, “what can I help you with?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I might have lost my keys again,” Cas said sheepishly, “I’m really sorry. I think I might know where they are.” He lied. “I just need to go check, but I wanted to warn you that might need to put in an order for copying keys.”

“Not a problem my dear,” she said, “do let me know when you find them.”

“I will,” Cas said and smiled. He waved to her as he walked out of the building and tried to tune out his neighbors screaming. Cas slowly made his way back to Ink Wings, dreading that he would have to tell Charlie. The bells on the door jingled as he walked in. One of their regulars, Ash, waved at Cas with the arm he wasn’t getting tattooed. Cas waved back and walked over. “Still working on that sleeve?”

“Yup,” Ash nodded to his own shoulder.”

“Have you seen Charlie?”

“Think she’s in the back.”

Cas nodded and walked through the room to one of the doors on the back wall. “Charlie!” he called as he opened the door.

“Hey!” Charlie said and swiveled around to face Cas. “You’re here.”

“I am,” Cas said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh no,” Charlie said. “Did that ass from last night keep you here and not pay or finish or something?”

“No, no,” Cas said and waved his arms. “Well, yes, he was here forever and wanted a break every five minutes.” Charlie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes and walked past Cas, into the main room. She made her way behind the desk in the main room. That’s where they both preferred to do most of their work. They liked being around their artists and people getting their tattoos done, it was a fun and easy atmosphere for them. It’s also where they had to deal with all the transactions that they went through.

“What is it?” Charlie asked.

“Well,” Cas said. “I think I may have lost my keys.”

“Again?” Charlie screeched. “Honestly I don’t care if you own the shop, you’re not responsible enough for keys. Oh my god, what if you ever have a child, will you forget them places? You don’t even know how to care for a child.”

“If I ever decide to have a child I will take the necessary precautions and educational routes,” Cas said, exasperated.

“You better pray to St. Anthony that you find those damn keys,” Charlie said as she nudged Cas out of her way.

“I’ll look around for them,” Cas sighed. He worked his way around the floor, and could feel the way Charlie was glaring at him the whole time. The bells on the door jingled again and Cas glanced up. Dean walked through and his face was schooled into the features that every newcomer has their first time walking into a tattoo parlor. He glanced around and seemed to relax a little when he saw Cas. “Dean?” Cas asked.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said and walked in a little more. “Are these yours?” He held up a key chain.

“Thank you St. Anthony!” Cas yelled and threw his hands in the air, grinning. Dean took a step back and stared at Cas. “Sorry,” Cas said and let his arms drop. “St. Anthony, patron saint of lost items.”

Dean nodded slowly. “So these are yours?”

“Yes,” Cas said as Dean handed him the keys. “Thank you. Where were they?”

“I found them when I was cleaning up,” Dean said. “They must’ve fallen out of your pocket when you bent down to get this stuff.” He waved his injured hand. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” Dean glanced around the parlor once more before he smiled at Cas and then left.

“I think you got help from St. Anthony and St. Valentine,” Charlie said.

“Shut up,” Cas pushed her playfully. “Look, keys! We don’t have to replace anything!” He hopped from his left foot to his right and then back again while waving the keys.

“How old are you,” Charlie laughed and pushed Cas back, “Five? Please tell me you tapped that.”

“Charlie,” Cas said sternly. “No.”

“Please tell me you kissed that.”

“Charlie.”

“At least tell me you plan on doing _something_ with that?”

“No,” Cas shrugged and put the keys behind the counter. “I don’t really know him, and I’m pretty sure he’s either kinda freaked out by me or thinks I’m just weird.”

“But you’re a teddy bear,” Charlie said.

“I’ve had now almost three conversations with the guy, Charlie,” Cas said. “We’re not even acquaintances.”

“He’s the guy that works next door that you’re always checking out,” Charlie said. “Isn’t he?”

“Charlie!” Cas said. She just narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, yeah, but looking and touching are two very different things. He owns a fucking flower shop, while I own a fucking tattoo parlor. I’m ninety seven point four percent certain that we are not compatible people. When he saw me last night he gave me the ‘judgmental’ look. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, “but was this late at night?”

“I mean,” Cas hesitated, “it was three in the morning, so obviously it’s not okay to see anyone at three in the morning, but the point still stands. He did that thing where people give you a once-over, but not the sexy kind.”

“I think you just think it wasn’t the sexy kind,” Charlie said. “You never think it’s the sexy kind.”

“Well this time it definitely wasn’t,” Cas said. “As I said, he owns a flower shop, he’s not gonna be into guys with tats. Hell, maybe he’s not into guys at all.”

“He owns a flower shop,” Charlie said condescendingly.

“That’s stereotyping,” Cas said. “And that’s harmful and hurtful. He could be the straightest guy you’ve ever come across.”

“Stop fighting you two,” Ash called out. “And sorry Cas, but I have to agree with Charlie. He’s about as straight as you are, a whole box full of curly fries.”

“Hey now,” Cas said. “I have some normal fries thrown in there.”

“Yeah,” Charlie said, “but you prefer curly.”

“Well,” Cas shrugged, “maybe I just like it when a guy shoves his—”

“Stop!” Charlie yelled. “I don’t need to know. I know a lot about your sex life, or lack thereof, but I don’t need explicit details.”

Cas smirked and started working on the paperwork that Charlie had stopped when he walked in. 


End file.
